


The Light is Calling

by chumimiista



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dreams and Nightmares, Experimental Style, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gentle Kissing, Hallucinations, Incest, Loneliness, M/M, Post-Devil May Cry 5, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28507452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chumimiista/pseuds/chumimiista
Summary: Nero is plagued by dreams both good and bad, waiting for the day he will finally see Dante again. Sometimes he hallucinates, too. One has him paralyzed and leaves him yearning for Dante's touch; so much that when the real man finally shows up, Nero can't tell that he's real.DaNerofirst fic of 2021 leggo!fluff & hurt/comfort, experimental writing style, 1000 words exactly.
Relationships: Dante/Nero (Devil May Cry), danero - Relationship
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	The Light is Calling

**Author's Note:**

> it was fun to lightly challenge myself on day 2 of this new shitty year, i have no hope but wanted to write something for danero. not quite how i expected it to turn out but i hope you all enjoy it. ♥

The light from the window was bright. Nero tried to ignore it, for he was having pleasant dreams of days past: when he and Dante would meet up for a mission and get pizza afterward, or when Nero showed up at the office occasionally just to chat; where it became more than just friendship at some point, fueled at first by liquid courage and starting with innocent cuddles. The need for someone who understood him to be close. Physical _touch_ that he had lacked in all his years living in Fortuna, and the one who accepted it was Dante.

The light wouldn’t go away. Nero grunted and opened his eyes, but a large shadowy figure blocked his view. A broad chest in front of his face was speckled with white hairs. A quiet chuckle echoed. Nero’s body was too heavy to move. He tried to look up but found his face was being guided by a large, calloused hand, and in his daze familiar lips found his and whispered how much they had missed him. He could only close his eyes and succumb to the taste of Dante, still unsure whether he was real or a dream or another hallucination. Dante’s kiss was soft… it warmed Nero to the core, giving him the strength to wrap his arms around his uncle and lover’s waist; skin against skin made him moan and try again to open his eyes.

The light was still there, blinding his view. He could not see Dante’s face except for his glowing red eyes and a faint hint of lines across his features. Nero soon recognized them as the markings of Dante’s devil trigger. He sighed and moved closer, but the warmth soon disappeared save for a hand on his cheek that stroked it delicately; Nero then felt tears quickly form in his eyes and fall down his cheeks. With a raspy voice, he called out for Dante.

The light was gone when he opened his eyes. Nero heard heavy boots behind him, but instead of jumping out of bed impulsively he waited for them to get close – then his wings sprouted from his back and pinned the intruder on the ground.

“Whoa, whoa! Calm down, kid, it’s me!”

“Dante? What… No, it can’t be you…”

The light was still gone when Nero got out of bed, except for the faint blue of his wings illuminating the bedroom. He was in full control of his body now, his mind clearing from its sleepy haze, and on the ground indeed lay Dante: dirty with bloodstains on his battle worn clothes. _Is this another dream?_ he thought, but in his moment of disbelief Dante managed to shove the glowing hands off him and threw himself at Nero. It was the biggest hug the man had ever given him. Nero stood still and tried to ground himself: deep breaths, counting slowly, feeling the real crusty texture of Dante’s wrist bandages and the leather of his coat and the strong arms refusing to let him go.

The light in Dante’s eyes was its normal blue color when the man pulled away to look at him. Nero only stared, still not registering whether this was real life or a dream thanks to all the times he had been delusional and woken up alone.

“Dante, are you really here or am I dreaming?”

“I’m here, Nero.” Dante ruffled his hair and stroked his cheek. He leaned down to touch their noses together, and suddenly everything in the world made sense again. Nero was awake. He was physically rooted in reality and the man he loved and would risk the entire world – the entire _universe_ for was standing in front of him with his usual shit-eating grin and a particular softness in his eyes.

The light peered in from the shades as the sun began to rise. Nero wrapped all four of his arms around Dante, hugging him close as they kissed and refused to let each other go. Dante’s parched lips were hydrated, both men forgiving of their bad breath as they were just happy to be in each other’s arms again.

The light followed them around for the rest of that day. A long, hot bath and steamy shower was all it took to clean Dante of dirt and grime and demon guts, though they lingered often until the water was too cold. Both men were content to give in to soft touches and harsh grips, needing to feel each other’s real presence and hold onto it. Nero asked Dante hundreds of times whether he was real, and every answer was a kiss or a hug or the intertwining of their fingers and a soft gaze; then he’d ask if Dante was there for good this time, and Dante would always answer yes.

The light faded away when nighttime came, but with Dante’s bed now occupied by both him and Nero, the dark was less intimidating. A flash of his dream passed by in that moment, but when Nero tilted his head and looked into Dante’s eyes, they were not red and his face was not decorated with faintly glowing grooves; his demon was at bay, and so was Nero’s.

The light in their hearts grew warm, and in the darkness they held one another in a tight embrace. Nero whispered _I love you_ and Dante repeated the phrase until Nero passed out.

When the light hit Nero’s eyes the next morning, the body in front of him did not fade nor paralyze him with despair. Dante snored like a log with his arms wrapped around Nero, unwilling to let him go when he had slightly adjusted his position. Nero laughed a little and kissed his chin. Figuring Dante hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in a warm comfy bed in the arms of someone he loved for the last year he’d been gone, Nero let him sleep as long as he pleased. He was content to never leave Dante’s arms again.


End file.
